


what a mess I leave to follow

by thesoundofnat



Category: If We Were Villains - M.L. Rio
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Kiss, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Shakespeare Quotations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: James was observing him, head tilted slightly to the right. Something akin to concern coloring his face. “Oliver.”“Yes?”“Come with me.”(Or, Oliver is worried that things will change and James takes him to the woods so that they can talk.)





	what a mess I leave to follow

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in the summer when I read and fell in love with this book, but only just finished it and decided to post it. I hope, if you read it, that you like it!
> 
> Takes place before the events of the book, but contains some vague-ish spoilers.

It was a hot autumn, almost claustrophobic. Oliver felt the humid September air settle on his skin without providing a breeze, almost choking him to death during his morning runs or drunken adventures when he thought rushing back to the Castle was a good idea. He knew he’d regret it once winter had them in its grip, but he missed the freshness that the cold brought with it.

Not to say that he didn’t enjoy the prolonged summer evenings, because they really couldn’t be called anything else. It was different now. Here. Different from Ohio and its lack of, well, everything. He narrowly avoided drowning when Alexander splashed the water surrounding them slightly too enthusiastically, but the laugh bubbling up his throat told him that everything was okay.

“God, the lake is colder than you’d think,” James said on his other side, mouth slightly parted as he tried to get used to the temperature. Hair still dry since Alexander’s wrath hadn’t reached him. “No wonder Richard isn’t getting in.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Oliver said. “He’ll take it as a challenge.”

On the beach, Richard was watching them idly, looking almost bored if Oliver didn’t know that was exactly where he wanted to be right now. Meredith was beside him, but she was eyeing the water longingly, and Oliver knew she’d join them soon enough. Filippa was already there, waving her arms around in a soft retaliation for Alexander’s splashing, creating waves and steering them his way. Wren was still tiptoeing between land and sea, or well, lake, gathering her strengths to venture in to join them.

This was how it always should be, Oliver though. They’d have to start preparing for the usual auditions for the autumn play soon -  _Caesar_ , they’d found out - but tonight was all about taking advantage of their last moments of freedom before classes and lines and partly made up emotions. Before their lives became more Shakespearean than they already were.

The calm before the storm, some would say. They probably didn’t know how right they were.

It was almost as if Oliver could sense that the end of an era was coming up, and not just because they were graduating in the spring. Promises of  _we’ll keep in touch_  and dreams of all living on top of each other in a penthouse or something in New York seemed too good to be true, and maybe it was. Oliver had always thought this whole thing - this school and group and life - had seemed too good to be true.

“Where’s your head?” James asked, flicking water at him with his fingertips. “ _With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come_.”

Oliver fell in stride easily. “ _All’s well that ends well._  I’m just distracted.”

“ _You speak an infinite deal of nothing._  What’s up?”

“ _Are you sure that we are awake? It seems to me that yet we sleep, we dream_.”

James’ frown told Oliver he was dropping Shakespeare right into the water. “Are you all right?”

Oliver rubbed his index finger over his temple. “Yeah, I just- I’m getting strangely emotional.”

“That can’t be good.”

“It isn’t.”

James hummed, stepping forward, the lake slowing his movements. “You want to talk about it?”

Oliver both did and didn’t. How could he explain that he was getting overwhelmed by his mere presence? By all of them, this place, a life he’d lose soon. By the prospect of never having anything like this again. By the fact that he’d never had anything like this before. How could he explain it all without sounding like a fool?

James was observing him, head tilted slightly to the right. Something akin to concern coloring his face. “Oliver.”

“Yes?”

“Come with me.”

Oliver did without a word. Without protest or question or hesitation. The wind was chillier now that they were wet, slapping their skin in icy succession, and Oliver was shivering by the time they grabbed their clothes from the shore.

No one asked where they were going, trusting they knew what they were doing and would soon be back. Oliver realized how blindly they all trusted each other, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that was foolish.

Blind trust, though no trust at all.

He followed James into the forest, the vast greenness welcoming them in its embrace easily. They journeyed up a path they’d taken a million times before, feet and limbs moving away automatically when they knew a branch or stone could halt them. All familiar. All rapidly ending.

“ _Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast,_ ” James was saying in front of him, and Oliver felt a smile tug at his lips.

Oliver didn’t think James was leading them somewhere specific, just away so that they could be alone. How he’d known that was exactly what Oliver had needed after he’d started overthinking it all, he didn’t know. It seemed as if James just knew, like he always did. Like he probably always would.

“Here. Sit.” James had stopped at a clearing and settled down on a log, looking so comfortable Oliver was certain he’d been there before.

The night was darkening, but Oliver felt no haste when he sat. In fact, he was content with the notion of sitting here till sunrise, which wasn’t many hours away to begin with. “This is cozy.”

“Isn’t it?” Been here before, then. “Hopefully no villains will find us here.”

Oliver wondered what - and whom - he considered villains. He knew time would catch up to them eventually, and he labelled it as the biggest villain of them all.

“Talk to me.” James was leaning to the side to watch him better, and Oliver could see his eyes even in the dark. Such eyes he’d always considered unfair. They were too bright with life. Too capable of getting him to spill every single secret he’d ever had.

Clearing his throat, Oliver forced himself to look away. “I’m not sure I can vocalize this.”

“Lover of words,” James mumbled. “Is it really this bad?”

“No, no, it’s not… bad.”

“But not good either.” It wasn’t a question.

Oliver shook his head. “No.”

Fingers found his chin, touching him so gently he almost shivered. “Look at me.”

“James.”

“Oliver. Look at me.”

When Oliver did, James was much closer than before. “What?”

“Will I have to force you to talk?”

Oliver breathed out a laugh. “Good luck with that.”

James hummed, the ghost of a grin on his lips. “I have my ways, you know.”

“I’m not convinced.”

A hand on his knee, squeezing in a way that made Oliver almost fall off the log. “Are you convinced now?”

“You’re hurting me!”

“Come off it,” James said, laugh matching Oliver’s. “Talk or I’ll go for your ribs.”

“Now you’re just being cruel.”

“I’m waiting.”

Had it been daylight and had the ground been more even, Oliver might’ve made a run for it just for the hell of it, but he knew when defeat stared him in the face, and the least he could do was stare back.

“I’m scared,” he said finally, realizing it was the simplest way to summarize it.

“Scared?”

“Yes.”

“Of?”

“Of this ending. Of change. Of life outside of this school.”  _Of not being with you_.

“It’s normal to be scared.”

“You’re not.”

James gripped his arm, squeezing it once. “Of course I am. We all are.” His lips twitched. “We’re just slightly better at hiding it.”

Oliver let out a laugh. “All right, keep mocking.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it! But I’m just saying.”

Oliver wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that James was taking his predicament so lightly. On one hand, it felt nice to not dwell on it. On the other, he was certain his friend didn’t fully understand what he meant. Didn’t fully comprehend his dread.

But maybe he was overreacting. Maybe.

“Hey.” A hand on his shoulder, fingertips brushing against the side of his neck. “If there’s anything else, you can tell me.”

How to say what hid in one’s heart? Oliver couldn’t, wouldn’t, lest he wanted to lose it all.

So he put on a smile and did what he did best. Acted. “I’m tired,” he said. “So everything just seems heavier. There’s nothing else.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“All right.” James didn’t remove his hand. “But if anything changes-”

“I’ll come to you. I promise.”

_Liar_.

He shivered. “It’s getting colder by the minute.”

“Autumn’s on its way, believe it or not. Despite this heat that refuses to leave us.”

“I reckon us being wet beneath our clothes has something to do with it.”

“A valid belief. Do you wanna go?”

“Back to the beach?”

“Or our room.”

Oliver looked around at the dim clearing in the woods. He was certain the first rays of the morning sun wasn’t too far away. “Can we stay for a bit and then watch the sunrise?”

“Aren’t you a hopeless romantic.”

“Oh, hush. You know I’m not looking forward to the darkness that soon will consume us.”

James laughed. “Drama queen.”

They fell silent after that, James scooting closer to keep Oliver warm. He slid his hand across Oliver’s neck and put his arm around him, the thrill of youth making them bolder. Oliver almost felt desperate, as if someone was counting down his minutes. Their time running out.

“James,” he started, turning his head to face him better.

“Yes?” James was too close. So fucking close he would’ve seen his every pore had it been daylight.

“I forgot,” he said, breathless, unsure of what it even was he’d wanted to accomplish.

James’ lips curled into a smile. “Are you getting sleepy?”

“Not really.”

“Precious Oliver.” A hand in his hair. “Always wanting my attention.”

Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but James silenced him with his own.

Their first kiss. Never talked of again and never once repeated until their final moment. Had Oliver known he would’ve fought for him, for them, but he hadn’t known. Couldn’t have known. So he simply went on as if nothing had happened, content with what he had and refusing to let it go. Little did he know it wouldn’t be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://thesoundofnat.tumblr.com/)!


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